On Minority Poem by Marian Evans

On Minority



Who, then, are the free-versed
And cannot stop for race?
A muttered slight without remorse
Plagues a nation in disgrace.

If only lines could scrawl
And fingers did their turn.
Maybe then the problems all
Would cease- would stop their churn.
Color-blind to a page of white,
No thinkers to end their plight.

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